They soared higher and higher up into the night sky, the city below becoming nothing more than twinkling lights, spread out over the dark, brooding landscape. Serena held tight to Ivar, her arms wrapped around his waist, while he gripped her, comfortably, with one arm around her waist. He watched as her amethyst eyes grew wide with awe, as she gazed down at the sights below, her entire face lit up with childlike wonder.
He took her to a mountain overlooking the city, landing on its highest peak, where a single tree grew, precariously perched on a grassy ledge. He placed her on a thick, outstretched branch while he stood beside her and looked out at the city below.
"It's beautiful", she breathed, smiling into the wind that caressed her face.
"Indeed", he answered, staring at her.
She turned to see his eyes on her and she smiled shyly, feeling suddenly self conscious.
"You are my wife Serena and I will take no other woman but you, and I expect the same of you", he said seriously.
"I have no wish for any other", she replied softly.
"Tell me"
"I have no wish to be with any other but you"
"Show me"
Serena was first surprised then confused, before she realized, with a start, what he was asking for. She swallowed hard and licked her lips, thinking about how she would respond to his request. She thought about the times when he had touched her and wondered if he would enjoy it if she did the same to him. But then she worried about if she would be able to touch him in the manner that he would find pleasurable.
"You seem overly anxious, Serena. Only imagine that should it feel pleasurable for you then it would be the same for me", he said, as he came to stand in front of her.
She nodded, wiping her hands down the sides of her dress, and placing them on his arms, pulled him firmly forward, between her legs. She haltingly reached for the buttons on his shirt and began slowly undoing each one. Spreading his shirt open, she hesitantly placed her hands on the smooth, cool skin and began caressing his chest and nipples.
She stole a quick peek at his face but his eyes were closed, and sensing no resistance, she lowered her head and began licking his nipples, with soft, kittenish strokes. She felt his hands in her hair, pressing her head against him, and she thought that he must be enjoying what she was doing.
Feeling slightly more confident, she moved her hands lower, brushing her fingers lightly across the firm bulge in his trousers, when she heard him inhale sharply and she froze.
"Please don't stop", he murmured, his voice slightly hoarse.
She gently pressed his protruding manhood with her fingers, then rubbed it firmly, feeling it grow and harden through the fabric. Her own arousal blossomed with the moisture forming between her thighs and the tightening of her nipples under her dress.
"Touch me Serena, touch me with your bare hands", Ivar whispered in a husky voice.
Her hands were trembling with her own desire, as she fumbled with unfastening his trousers, eventually achieving success, as she reached inside and grasping his manhood, pulled it free from its confines.
He rocked against her, bending his head to kiss her neck, as she stroked his swollen member with her hands, running her fingers over the top and down its length. She lifted her head to kiss him, while fondling him below, as he slid his hands under her dress and between her thighs. He ripped open her undergarments and sought out her womanhood with his fingers, pressing through her wet folds, until he found the engorged nub of her pleasure. His fingers moved with firm, circular strokes, gradually building the pressure, but not enough to bring her release.
"Please Ivar, I want you", she moaned against his mouth, heady with desire.
"If you want me then take me", he replied.
She took hold of his throbbing member, and positioning herself on the branch, guided him inside her as she arched her back to draw him fully inside.
He groaned as he began thrusting deep inside her, his hands gripping the branch on either side of her, as his movements became more vigorous.
"Hold onto something", he said, lifting her legs onto his shoulders, entering her deeper than he had ever done before.
Serena gripped the branch under her, feeling Ivar so deep inside her that his manhood was touching her womb. She cried out as a completely new sensation overwhelmed her, he was stretching her inside and hurting her, but with the pain came a pleasure so indescribably exquisite that it wasn't long before she was drowning in the depths of her orgasm. His shuddering against her as he jerked inside her, told her that he had also found sweet release.
******************************
Outside the Northern High Council, Rathgar stood with Mikhail, staring at the spot under the tree, where Ivar had flown from with Serena, only moments ago.
"The heart of the Vampire King is beginning to thaw", Mikhail murmured.
"I doubt he knows it", Rathgar grunted.
"All in good time", the older vampire responded.
"What of the girl? She knows nothing"
"All in good time"
After some time had passed in silence, Mikhail spoke again.
"You are worried for him"
"I'm only doing my duty", Rathgar snorted dismissively.
"So you say"
From inside, they could hear the raucous sounds of the ball, as the hour grew late and the drinks flowed more freely. The ball would continue until the early hours of the morning, the guests only leaving as the first rays of the sun began to creep over the horizon. It had always been this way, as far as anyone could remember, and it probably always would.
Kings and queens, princes and princesses, had fought and died in the ballroom during the time of the Grand Ball and Ivar was no exception. But times have changed and there are those who no longer fear the King and the crown, their hunger for the throne and its power, overriding all else. If they were caught, they paid with their lives, and it was Rathgar's job to seek them out and exact payment.
The two vampires were almost identical in appearance but for Rathgar's larger, muscular frame, although Mikhail's lean build belied a wiry strength, that could be just as vicious and dangerous. Their blood-red orbs glittered hypnotically, the fairy lights reflected in their murky depths, as they continued to stare at the silent and empty garden.
"Lavinia plays a dangerous game", Rathgar muttered under his breath.
"She is merely a puppet, a means to an end", Mikhail spoke in a quiet voice.
Rathgar was silent, his mind ticking over the events from earlier, as he recalled the imposter in the garden, who had adopted Ivar's likeness.
"Find him", Mikhail's voice floated on the breeze soughing gently through the garden.
"I know well my duty, do yours", Rathgar returned.
"Lavinia is not your concern", Mikhail hissed sibilantly.
"Should there be a repeat of tonight's performance, not even you will keep me from her", Rathgar spat, before turning to walk away.
Mikhail watched him leaving, perturbed by his outburst, it was unlike Rathgar to display any emotion except when it concerned Ivar. Mikhail thought of the young Viscount Linley, whose life Ivar had ended without a second thought. His cold-hearted, ruthless display served its purpose, a reminder of the brutality of which he was capable, for those who had forgotten. But he had also shown a glimpse of his weakness, the girl with eyes like precious amethysts.
Mikhail stood on the terrace a while longer, his heightened senses, alert, though outwardly he seemed relaxed and oblivious to his surroundings. The sounds from inside the ballroom had grown more boisterous and the vampire toyed with the idea of venturing inside to find a late night snack. One of the inebriated humans would suffice, though he loathed the taste of alcohol tainting their blood.
He inwardly sighed, setting these thoughts aside, and focused instead on Lavinia and the punishment for her actions. Perhaps this would be the best time to pay her visit, catch her off-guard, and glean what information he could to identify her puppet master. Lavinia was anything if impetuous and now was an opportune time to for her to learn the consequences of her foolishness.
Hearing noises from the terrace doors, as a shadow fell across the stone floor, Mikhail blended silently into the shadows, vanishing in a wisp of black smoke, just as Seamus appeared outside.
"Mikhail", he muttered, his eyes searching the terrace and garden below.
"It is time, Mikhail, cease this nonsense at once", Seamus spoke almost as if speaking to a child.
The air around him, seemed to shimmer, undulating as if it were something alive, before resolving itself into a black mist that resembled the figure of a man. Gradually the dark mist solidified and Mikhail reappeared on the terrace, with just the faintest hint of a smile on his placid face.